


Reunion: Lockhart

by Bloody_Vixen



Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloody_Vixen/pseuds/Bloody_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sephiroth would be the Chosen One but Tifa found 'Mother' first. AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story came to me as a 'What If' regarding Tifa. We knew that at one point she and Cloud were involved with an accident after her mother's death. This story revolves on the idea of Tifa not getting injured but made her way to the Reactor, where, somehow, the JENOVA specimen was being kept. From there it snowballed to this. I'm hoping to avoid some common fanfiction pitfalls but don't be surprised if I did indulge with them. This is an experimental Sephiroth/Tifa pairing but I will explore the various pairings, including canon ones. This will following the Compilation canon but where my knowledge is scarce, I will try to attempt to research for its accuracy.

It stirred. It felt the weight of the ages upon it, heavy and old.

Memories coalesced and searched…

Gone were its gifts, powerful and many. A mind once unbreakable was now lost; only echoes of anger remained, and a sense of futility mingled amidst them. Yet the instinct remained, as it should, thus not all was lost.

As long as the instinct lived, the Chosen would answer to the call.

And answer it did.

* * *

A tiny child made her way across the mountain.

A broken bridge lay behind her, a lonely boy its company: a lonely boy, who shouted far too late.

* * *

A mind, it felt a _mind_.

It was weak; fragile— _youthful_ , but it had to do.

It stirred and spread and _touched_.

It was a mind of mourning, enveloped with loss and sadness all too mortal—and all too easy.

The timeless instinct roused; though many of its gifts were lost to decay, this one last bit would pave its resurrection.

* * *

_"Mama! Mama, you're okay!"_

* * *

It stirred and spread and touched; then, it _consumed_.

* * *

It was the Mayor who found them; the lonely boy cradled on the lap of his daughter. In his relief, he did not notice her eyes. Eyes that were once crimson were now tinged green, their pupils slit.

* * *

 


	2. The Interregnum

Amidst the chaos, she remembered.

I am Tifa.

(Burn the memories; let the hunger flow.)

No. My name is Tifa. I am Tifa Lockhart.

(Don't fight it; sleep and let go.)

NO! My name is Tifa Lockhart! I am Tifa!

It knew this feeling; it was familiar.

(Its Chosen and Their Names)

I am Tifa! I am Tifa!

(But...)

I AM TIFA LOCKHART!

(It was not time.)

It slept, and Tifa asserted.

* * *

When Mr. Lockhart found Tifa, it took all his strength not to crush her with his arms. He had thought he could not feel anymore since his wife died, but as soon as Johnny ran to his door, his face covered in sweat and dirt, shouting about how Tifa had gone to the mountains, it was all Mr. Lockhart could do not too faint from sheer horror.

He had already lost his wife. Must he lose his daughter as well?

"Tifa are you all right?" His daughter was propped against the dirt wall; her dress torn, but he saw no signs of injuries. The boy, however…

The Strife boy was covered in multitudes of cuts and bruises. Mr. Lockhart noted that the boy's breath was shallow, and his face was scrunched up in pain. Tifa was carefully cradling him, whispering something in his ear, and taking no notice of her father.

"Shiva, we need to get him to doctor," he heard Robert exclaim behind him.

"Tifa…" A nod from her head indicated she heard him, but her eyes were locked onto Cloud.

"Papa, Papa please help Cloud! He tried to help me, but the bridge fell and he got hurt and it's all my fault!" she said before breaking into sobs.

"Tifa, it's all right, it's okay, sweetie. Come, we have to get Cloud to the doctor," he said and then carefully took Cloud into his arms. "Come now, let's go home."

They needed to be quick; the sun was setting, and he knew even his team could not hope to defeat the monsters that came out then. Only hours later did he notice that something was different.

Once Cloud was tended to, the Mayor went off to see his daughter. She was placed under quarantine, but the doctor deemed it safe enough for him to visit her for not more than ten minutes.

Part of him knew that what Tifa did was an act of grief; that in trying to understand death, her child-like mind made up the story that somehow, her mother had simply vanished beyond the mountain, and gone on a very long trip that she would not come back from. He understood the idea but it did not mean he was not furious (with her or with himself, he didn't care).

However, as soon as he saw her vulnerable figure huddled up on the clinic's bed, her face pale and eyes wide with fear, he felt the anger ebb away. In time, he would have to speak with Tifa about how dangerous her actions were, but that would be far in the future. Right now, all he wanted was for Tifa to get better.

"Papa…is Cloud okay?" she asked, her body shaking with fear.

"He's fine, Tifa." It was the truth; the doctor said something about how unbelievably lucky the children were in surviving a fall that high. Cloud would heal in time and suffer no more than superficial cuts, bruises, and a sprained ankle. Tifa, he noted, was near miraculous; with the exception of her eyes, there were no injuries at all.

"I'm sorry Papa, I know you said…n-not to go, b-but I wanted to see…" Her words dissolved into sobs and tears, and he gently held his daughter in his arms.

"There, there honey, I know. It's okay; just don't do it again."

Tifa looked up, hiccoughed, and nodded.

"Um, Papa?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry, Papa," she apologised again. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone." Tifa thought about Cloud and how terrible he looked when she found him. She had been so stupid and she'd nearly killed both him and her friends. Her Mama would be so disappointed if she had done that, she'd probably refuse to see her—her foolish daughter who nearly killed her friends.

She did not realise that she had started crying again until her Papa's gentle hands wiped her tears aside.

"I'm stupid, Papa," she hiccoughed.

"No, Tifa, your _actions_ were stupid." She winced at her Papa's firm voice, and he continued, "…But you're my smart little girl, who will learn from her mistakes." He tipped her chin so that they met eye to eye. "From now on, you are never to go up that mountain without supervision, and you must _always_ tell me where you want to go, okay?" He did not need to tell her the consequences of what would happen if she did not heed him, and she nodded fiercely. "Pinky promise?" He held out his pinky and Tifa looped it with hers.

"Pinky promise!" she answered and enveloped him in a fierce hug.

"Excuse me, Sir? I'm afraid it's time," Nurse Mary, a stout, ageing woman with a kindly face, called out from the crack at the door.

"Can't Papa stay here?" she asked, tightening her grip on his arm.

"I'm sorry dear but Mr. Lockhart needs to rest," Nurse Mary said with a glance towards him.

"But- "

"It's okay Tifa, I'll stay," he assured her.

Nurse Mary looked worriedly at him, "Mr. Lockhart, the doctor –"

"I need to be with my daughter, Mary. Tell Doctor Garland that," he cut her off with a tone that brook no opposition. Nurse Mary had a face that wanted to suggest something else, but she sighed, nodded, and left the room.

He felt Tifa relaxing beside him, and saw those eyes staring up at him.

Mutations from Mako had been recorded, and he had witnessed first-hand what happened to any person who fell into a Mako spring or ingested a poisonous Mako plant for too long. It was never pretty, and it was almost always fatal. (That is, until ShinRa found a way to harvest its powers, but aside from the reactor and abandoned mansion, they were far away). So far, Tifa did not exhibit any known side-effects and appeared to be quite healthy, except for eyes that were now bright green with unnatural cat-like pupils.

They had been his wife's eyes. In looks, Tifa inherited his, but her eyes were all Sara's. Some part of him felt angry that this one memory of his wife had been stolen, but he suppressed it.

"Papa, can I see Cloud?" she asked, before a yawn escaped her lips.

"We can see him tomorrow. You need to rest and get better." He began to arrange the furniture in the clinic's ward to settle down for the night. "How about a bedtime story?" he asked, but Tifa's eyes were shut, and she replied to him with a tiny snore.

Suddenly, he felt the day's events taking its toll on his body. Every part of him ached, and it was only now that he realised he had not eaten since the morning. He had not brought a fresh set of clothes, and probably stank to the high heavens, but as soon as he saw his daughter sleeping on the bed, he realised he did not care.

His daughter was safe; that was all that mattered.

* * *

_Interregnum_

* * *

For any man, the draft for the Wutai War was a death-sentence.

It did not matter that ShinRa had better technology, their famous SOLDIER detachment, and excellent retirement benefits. Despite efforts (and threats) by ShinRa to portray the SOLDIER and army life as an exciting (albeit dangerous) adventure, rumours of horrific hazing, inhuman experiments, and unpleasant deaths still managed to reach the general population.

Some tried to protest the draft, believing that to force men to fight a war they did not believe in infringed on their rights as free men. Their protests never lasted long, and invariably faded as the war continued.

Sephiroth, however, was not an average man.

To him, the war was freedom.

* * *

When Sephiroth first joined SOLDIER (right and proper; not just simulations and mock wars), a 1st Class called him an overrated pretty boy. It took him less than a minute to prevent said 'title' from becoming popular by the rest of the army. (Unless they were very brave and about a continent away.) As for the SOLDIER, he was discharged honourably, and his diagnosis was positive—he would walk within five years or so.

"So, I heard you're very good." The man provoking him this time had auburn hair, mako blue eyes, and was dressed in red leather and an air of superiority.

The last challenger went home with a broken arm, and solidified Sephiroth's reputation as The Swordsman SOLDIER in the ranks. It also had the unfortunate side-effect of thinning the herd of challengers.

Until today…

"I'd like to challenge that." A blade appeared, red and heavy.

Sephiroth didn't bother to smile, but it came when his blade clashed with his challenger's. Rather than collapsing like most men, this one stood erect.

He felt his blood sing for battle.

The duel went on for two hours. The friendship would last longer.

* * *

Genesis, as he learned his name later on, was extremely persistent. While most men would have backed away after seeing what Sephiroth could do, Genesis kept coming back.

"Hmph, you were lucky last time, but let's fight this time with real swords!" One hour and fourty-five minutes later , Genesis came out from with an impromptu haircut.

"Well! Though you may have won the battle between blades, it's with Materia I will win this war!" One hour. This time Genesis left without eyebrows.

"Hah! Sephiroth, I doubt even you can best me with both blade _and_ Materia!" Thirty minutes. Sephiroth mused whether to give him a brand new hairstyle or simply leave the man bald for the next few weeks.

Then, a stray Firaga struck a dragons' nest.

* * *

"You're an idiot, you know that?" a man with dark hair, mako blue eyes, and standard SOLDIER uniform interrupted.

"I was _this_ close to winning!" Genesis answered with an unimpressed snort.

"No, you were _this_ close to losing your head –" Angeal (his name was on his dog-tag) started angrily.

"-do you actually think that mere dragons could kill me?" Genesis retorted. Sephiroth noted that Genesis hid his pain quite well.

"- it doesn't matter! It's bad enough we're losing men to Wutai. Why must you go around trying to kill one of our own?"

"I don't want to kill him!" Genesis glared. "I just want to see if he's as strong as they say."

"What? The haircuts didn't clue you in?" Angeal then turned towards Sephiroth's bed. "My apologies, but Genesis can be incredibly stubborn," he said.

"I prefer 'determined'," the red-head exclaimed.

"I will try to keep him from bothering you," Angeal ignored him. "However, since my friend here can be quite hard-headed, could you at least try to confront him within the training area? While I do believe Genesis could use the exercise-"

"DUEL!"

"—e _xercise_ , I'd rather prevent any more incidents like today."

Most men would rather face Bahamut unarmed than staring at Sephiroth the way Angeal did.

It was probably why he'd accepted.

* * *

After his discharge (which earned him a call from Hojo, that he promptly ignored), Angeal had taken to the task of making sure both Genesis and Sephiroth would hold to their promise.

Which was why, when they both approached the training grounds, Sephiroth had held his sword in the attacking position. He had analysed every angle and ensured that the victory that would come would be swift and involve some hairstyle changes.

Genesis was clearly not paying attention at all; instead, he seemed quite enamoured by a small book in his hand, the title of which was LOVELESS.

"…"

"There was a famous theatre director who recently joined one of the 3rd Classes," Angeal offered an explanation. "It keeps him out of trouble, anyway."

It was the first time Sephiroth heard a play being recited. He learned later (though he wished otherwise) it would not be his last.

* * *

Sephiroth knew what friendship was. He had read about it; memorised its meanings, symbolism, and various ways it could be made and broken. (Next to 'family', this was one word he researched thoroughly.)

That didn't prepare him for when it unfolded before his eyes.

Nobody in SOLDIER were willing to fraternise with him—too many broken limbs and egos to count—and he valued privacy too greatly to have cultivated any on his own behalf. His rank and reputation allowed that status quo to remain unchanged, and any friendly gestures were met with an impenetrable silence. He learned that this was the best way to avoid unnecessary socializing.

(Also… because friendship requires emotion, and emotions are bad, bad, understood, _take that needle away from me—)_

He realised that responding to both Genesis and Angeal the same way he did others simply made them hound him even more. Genesis, proud of his skills, made it his business to duel his 'rival' at any given opportunity. Angeal, who wanted to ensure no more 'accidents', would materialise soon after. (It made Sephiroth wonder if the man had been imbued with some sort of teleporting materia).

He was unused to it.

He found Genesis' habit of quoting lines from LOVELESS during duels incredibly irritating, and Angeal's insistence at every hour to rest, going through safety protocols both before and after every fight to be quite insulting.

"I know that you think this is unnecessary. However, it's not that I doubt you for being thorough," Angeal explained during downtime. Then he glanced at Genesis, who was busy examining his newest rapier, "…but it's not something one should take for granted."

"We are SOLDIERs; injuries heal rapidly," Sephiroth retorted bitingly.

"That does not mean it should happen," he sighed. "I don't like watching my friends getting hurt."

To anyone who saw them, Sephiroth's expression seemed indifferent, and Angeal treated it as such.

It was, however, noted that Sephiroth never complained about safety protocols ever again.

_(And in the future, when all was lost, this was the last memory he let go…)  
_

* * *

_resumption  
_

* * *

The letter on his desk looked ordinary, but then it was Hojo's skill to turn anything ordinary into something incredibly sinister.

_You are required for annual treatments…lack of updates, unprofessional_ …And it was only the lack of Materia that stopped Sephiroth from burning the piece of paper to the ground.

Hojo must have known that he had a free and empty schedule. Usually he filled this up with meetings and training (dueling, insisted a stubborn red-head). However, it was the time of the Cold Peace, as the momentary truce between ShinRa and Wutai were called among the ranks, and both Genesis and Angeal had taken the opportunity to visit their families. He'd declined their invitations, though in hindsight he should have accepted.

Part of him wished the Cold Peace had arrived later, when he was officially twenty-one years old and legally responsible enough to distance himself from the Science Research Division. Though his eighteenth birthday meant being able to refuse any 'unnecessary' treatments, Hojo always found ways to turn them 'necessary'. The fact that the letter had the President's official signature made it clear he could not be absent.

He marched steadily through the halls of the 67th Floor. The lab assistants and administrators gave him a wide berth. Normally, this display of power gave him a minor thrill, but it was not enough to prevent every part of him from regressing back to the helpless little boy that he believed he had left behind.

The smell of metal and chemicals mingling always made him sick. No sword would make him flinch harder than a scalpel, and even when he thought he was immune to the stench, that man found ways to make it worse. And the mako—its taste lingered even after the strongest drink.

He felt dizzy and found himself using all his willpower not to shake.

It was probably the only reason for his momentary lapse of judgment. (No SOLDIER would have made the mistake; their reflexes were too good).

At first he thought he had lost control when his vision shook. Then, he realised that something had crashed into him. Instinctively, his entire body shifted into fighting position, his arm deftly disarming the creature that had collided into him. He was about to move in for the kill, when he realised he wasn't holding one of Hojo's mutated experiments.

It was a girl.

A little girl had bumped into him.

But it was not that fact that bothered him; neither was it the fact that he nearly hurt a child (or that there was _another_ child in the Science Research Department).

("TIFA!" a man shouted.)

The sounds of the world faded as he found himself staring into a pair of eyes.

Green eyes that were so much like his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank Sorrow with a Human Heart for BETA-ing this chapter.


	3. Of Many Meetings

"Sephiroth?"

"Yes, Professor Gast?"

"Do you ever feel… lonely?" An unusual question; sentimentality was never a strong suit with the scientist, but ever since the man's trip to Cosmo Canyon, Sephiroth had noticed a change in Professor Gast. It was incredibly subtle, but it was there.

"It never crossed my mind, sir," It was an honest answer. He never did…until now.

"I see," he commented, "but do you object to having company?"

It was a very curious and highly unusual question. Sephiroth took his time to answer.

"I prefer my own company, sir." He did not add, _'and yours as well'._ Hojo would never let Professor Gast visit him as often as he did if he knew.

"Hm, indeed. Continue on Sephiroth." And Professor Gast left the room.

That was the last time Sephiroth saw the man alive.

His was a special existence: that much Sephiroth knew. Ever since he was a child, everyone around him spoke of his intelligence and his unique physique, but the one thing that everyone noticed above everything else was his eyes.

He had searched far and wide, and though his signature silver hair explained itself easily, the eyes were truly his and his alone. If his parents had shared the same trait, Hojo would not clarify.

But now, here was a young girl with the exact same cat-like pupils, down to the same shade of green, and they reflected nothing but terror.

"Um, excuse me, sir, Sephiroth, sir, could you please put Tifa down?" It was one of Hojo's lab assistants; a new one, hence the respectful 'sir'. Hojo's more senior assistants had always referred to him as Specimen S.

The girl, Tifa, squirmed in his arms, "NO! NO! I WANT PAPA!" she shouted. It was a familiar call—though he never called for his parents; his was always 'Gast'. He didn't bother to loosen his grip.

"I don't think so," he replied to the assistant, who paled instantly. Sephiroth could imagine the boy's mind wrestling with the idea of standing up to him for Tifa or returning to Hojo empty handed.

Tifa, the small girl with his eyes, stopped fidgeting, as though she realized that the tall man with silver hair wasn't going to toss her back to Professor Hojo.

"Um, sir," the assistant began, but Sephiroth cut him off.

"No, it is obvious Tifa wants her…Papa," the word felt foreign on his tongue, "don't you, Tifa?"

Tifa didn't even need to be prompted; she nodded her head furiously.

"So, let's go look for him." Before the boy could retort, Sephiroth swept Tifa into his arms and marched away from the Science Research Department.

The girl stopped crying, and he heard her let out a tiny, relieved laugh.

He knew that Hojo would be furious, but at the moment Sephiroth didn't care. Here was someone who had his eyes, his supposedly one-of-a-kind eyes, and there were questions that needed to be answered.

Sephiroth felt his mind racing with a million thoughts, but all of them came down to one very important question: Who was Tifa?

* * *

Mr. Lockhart was nervous.

As soon as they had arrived at ShinRa Headquarters, Veld took Tifa away from him. He demanded to follow his daughter, but Veld shook his head and told him to wait in the lounge, as the Science Research Department was strictly for authorised personnel only.

Part of him wanted to ignore Veld's warning, but his more pragmatic side won. Though his favour with Veld might have allowed him this special request, he knew it was conditional at most, and he'd be wise not to do anything that might jeopardise his daughter's life.

Tifa, his brave Tifa, gave him a pleading look, but between Veld's impatient expression and the unspoken agreement, he could only say, "Tifa, be a good girl; these people are here to help you. They will take good care of you. Don't worry, I will be here."

His daughter sobbed, but held back her tears before turning to take Veld's hand.

"Another shot, Mr. Lockhart?" the bartender asked him.

He had to admit, despite ShinRa's reputation, they had one hell of an employee's lounge. With cheap but extremely good alcohol and free membership to a luxurious gym and spa, it was easy to understand why so many people on the Planet were willing to work for it.

"No thank you." He shoved himself away from the bar and started pacing around the area.

'Tifa's going to be okay,' he told himself. 'It's just a minor reaction; nothing harmful. This is just a simple check.' But even in his head, it sounded feeble.

'What if they'd never let her go? What if this was a trap?' he admonished.

Veld's man, Tseng, had tried to assure him that protocols would be followed at the moment, and that all they could do was wait until the department reported back.

Mr. Lockhart had triple-checked before he signed the release document. He hoped he never had to regret saving Veld's life. If they harmed Tifa, Turks or no Turks, he would have found a way to kill him.

It was already two hours since Tifa had gone up to the Science Department. 'Surely a routine checkup shouldn't take that long?'

He watched impatiently as every elevator door opened and closed, allowing the ShinRa employees to go wherever it was they had to go. He felt his head grow heavy – he wondered how long it was since he had slept – when someone caught his attention.

Mr. Lockhart had seen many interesting people throughout his life, but a six-foot tall man with long silver hair was not one of them. Especially interesting was that the man was holding Tifa in his arms.

"TIFA!" he called out, and his daughter jumped from the man's arms and ran straight into his, all the way crying, "PAPA, PAPA!"

His daughter felt tiny and fragile; he could not help but hug and kiss her cheeks again and again.

Then he held her at arm's length. Her eyes were red from crying, and he felt rage bubbling inside of him. 'What have they done do you?' he wanted to ask, but Tifa cut him off first.

"Papa! I want to go home! I don't like it here! Let's go home!"

Fucking Veld, he cursed inwardly. "Sure, sure baby, let's go." He was going to have a word with the Turk Leader, but now he needed to get Tifa away from this place.

"Are you Tifa's father?" a deep voice asked, and Mr. Lockhart remembered his audience. The silver-haired man looked at them with a most curious expression. 'His eyes…'

"Yes and you are?" he enquired, suddenly wary.

"I'm Sephiroth, SOLDIER First Class. I have a few questions to ask you," Sephiroth asked, "It's regarding your daughter, Tifa," he continued.

"I'm sorry, but as you can see, my daughter and I have had enough questions for today," he snapped.

"I understand, but I'm sure you're curious about these," Sephiroth waved towards his eyes.

"…are you with the Turks?" Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at his question. "…or the Science Department?"

"No," Mr. Lockhart nearly flinched from the coolness of his voice, "I'm only affiliated with SOLDIER, Mr.…?"

"Lockhart, Mr. Lockhart, Mayor of Nibelheim," he added.

Sephiroth gave him a look-over, as though he was searching for something, then he settled on casting an unreadable stare at Tifa (who stared back, he noted proudly).

"Papa," Tifa spoke, "He saved me from the bad men Papa," she said with awe.

"Wait, what bad men? I thought that it was supposed to be a routine a checkup?" he demanded, looking at his daughter, then back to Sephiroth.

"This is not a safe place to ask, Mr. Lockhart," a third voice chimed in. They all turned and saw a middle-aged man stepping out from the elevator doors, his blue suit indicating his status as a Turk.

Mr. Lockhart spluttered angrily, "Veld! I thought you said this was a routine checkup! Why is Tifa-"

The man in question didn't bother to look guilty but turned towards Sephiroth instead.

"Sephiroth, I'm afraid I need to remind you of your appointment with Professor Hojo," Veld said evenly. Veld had been in ShinRa long enough to know that he need not add what would happen if Sephiroth did not comply quickly. Hojo was in an uproar, and when he was, the old man would be disinclined to follow safety procedures that well. The last thing Veld needed was another batch of experiments escaping.

Sephiroth wanted to defy the subtext in his statement, Veld could tell. To be honest, if he was in the SOLDIER's shoes, he would have ignored the order as well, but Veld was a Turk and Sephiroth was a SOLDIER. If anything, Sephiroth respected the chains of command, and though Veld did not wish for it, he could make the First Class' life uncomfortable, no matter how highly favoured the young man was held in the eyes of the President.

"Indeed, one must not miss _that_ ," Sephiroth all but spat the words. He threw one last look at Mr. Lockhart and Tifa, and then uncharacteristically stomped his way to the Science Department.

As soon as he vanished, Veld turned back to his audience, barely flicking his head to dismiss the eavesdropping crowd that surrounded them. Nobody wanted to get involve with the Turks, especially if whatever business they were dealing with involved Veld.

"I'm sorry Mr. Lockhart, you must be exhausted," he commented, keeping his face straight. "We should adjourn to my office," he offered.

"Now, Veld..."

"I insist," Veld stopped him. "It's regarding your daughter," he added, and he knew at once Lockhart would have to listen.

Veld had done many things that would have broken most men, but in all his years he never once regretted it. He acknowledged that his actions were amoral at best and unspeakable at their worst, but he did what he had to do for the greater good. Someone had to. Though Lockhart could count himself as one of the few people on the Planet to owe him a favour, it did not mean Veld would have spared him from what was coming, and he hoped for Lockhart and his daughter's sake, the man would accept.

After all, Veld wasn't about to start regretting his decisions now.

* * *

Tifa had been excited when her Papa told her that they were going to Midgar. She had heard of the city; Mama was a Midgar woman before she moved away and settled with Papa in the village. (She thought the meeting between Papa and Mama was so romantic.) Mama used to tell her of a lovely city with tall buildings and fields so wide, one could see only green for miles and miles.

Her Papa didn't seem too excited though, and Tifa wondered if it was because it still hurt for him to think of Mama…Or maybe it had something to do with those scary men in suits that came last week.

It had been a week since Tifa and Cloud left the local clinic. She knew she nearly did not make it, but her Papa fought with Doctor Garland, and Tifa was finally allowed to go home. He used such bad words that Tifa had to remind him to pay the swear jar once they reached home. Her friends were there to celebrate her return, and though she had been scared to see them—she nearly got them killed—she was relieved when Johnny and her friends told her it was okay.

"We shouldn't have left you Teef, we were cowards!" Johnny said vehemently.

"No, Johnny, it was my fault, I shouldn't have gone, we all could have…died," she choked on that last word.

"Nuh-uh, I can take on anything, I'm the Hero Johnny! Right guys?" Derisive snorts answered him, but Tifa couldn't help but smile sincerely for the first time in ages.

"Say, Teef," Johnny cocked his head to his side, "what's wrong with your eyes?"

Tifa looked down to her feet; she had nearly forgotten about her eyes. When her Papa first showed her the new cat-eyes she had gotten, Tifa cried again. They had been her Mama's eyes, and now, her stupid actions had taken them away.

' _But dearest, it's my gift to you…'_

"Huh, you said something Johnny?" Tifa turned towards the voice. (Except Johnny was a boy and that voice was definitely a woman.)

"Yeah, what's wrong with your eyes?" Johnny asked again.

"Don't know," she answered honestly, "but it makes me look like a cat," Tifa pouted and it was true. She wanted to say a 'freak' but her Papa scolded her and said never to call herself that.

"Nah, I think you look pretty, Tifa," Raquel cooed, twirling her hair with her fingers. "Besides, cats are cute," she sighed, wondering if her mother would ever allow her a pet cat.

"Yeah, you're still Tifa, cat's eyes or not!" Johnny exclaimed.

"Say, isn't that Cloud?" Raquel pointed towards the door. She was right. Cloud looked (more) awkward with the sling around his left arm. He was scanning the crowd anxiously, and Tifa could not help but feel a surge of protectiveness towards him.

"Yeah, I invited him," Tifa answered.

"Huh, why'd you invite the lose-OW!" Topher, the gangly nine year old, said mockingly before Johnny elbowed him in the stomach.

"DON'T CALL HIM THAT!" Tifa sprang on Topher furiously, "He tried to save me, okay! And he's not a loser! If you say call him _that_ again Topher, I'm never going to talk to you, _ever_!"

"Oh, okay, okay, don't be mad Tifa, I'm sorry!" the boy apologized, but Tifa had already left them and headed towards Cloud.

The stare Cloud gave Tifa reminded her of a Nibel Deer, wide and absolutely terrified. For a moment, she wondered if he was going to run away from her.

"Hi, Cloud!" she said before he could bolt. "Thank you for coming," she grabbed his hands, making sure not to squeeze the injured hand too hard, in a greeting.

Cloud's cheeks went beet red, and he could only squeak out a tiny, "…thanks,"

"Excuse me?"

Cloud coughed and tried to look everywhere but Tifa's eyes, "I mean…thank you for inviting me!"

"You're welcome, Cloud. You look very nice," she added, hoping it would make him feel more comfortable, but if anything, it served to make the boy even redder. 'It makes him look cute,' she thought to herself.

"Come on Cloud, let me introduce you to my friends." She started to drag him to the center of the room, but before she could, the door knocked again.

"Oh, let me answer this first, Cloud," she told him and opened the door.

Three men wearing sharp blue-suits stared back. One of the men had long hair, and the other was bald, but it was the mean looking one with the beard who looked at her with surprise.

"Um…hello?" she spoke.

"Hello, is Mr. Lockhart in?"

"Yes, to whom am I speaking?" she asked, remembering her Mama's lessons on greetings.

The man smiled, "I'm Veld, an old friend of your father. Could you please call him?"

"Sure, Papa!" she called out to her Papa, "Mr. Veld is here!"

She went back to her party and ignored the looks the adults gave to Mr. Veld and his friends.

Cloud was looking at Johnny and her friends warily, as though he was waiting for them to pounce. As Tifa tried her best to integrate Cloud into her circle of companions, she did not hear the angry exchanges between her father and Mr. Veld, or the other parents whispering worriedly to one another.

All she could remember was Cloud shyly playing with Raquel, and Topher begrudgingly acknowledged the blond boy's existence. Aside from the unexpected guest, the party went on well. As far as Tifa was concerned, she had made a new friend, and that new friend had made more new friends.

Life was good, and she felt as though she could smile again.

Then they went to Midgar.

Her Papa had explained to her that they had to go and see the doctors in Midgar to figure out about her eyes.

"But you told me it was okay!"

"I know, but Mr. Veld here is just trying to make sure it's not…contagious," her Papa reasoned, "…and it will be quick. Don't you want to visit Midgar? In a helicopter?"

Tifa couldn't pack quickly enough.

She had been in awe of the city, though she was upset by the lack of greenery.

"Midgar's the power center of the Planet; the Lifestream flows thicker here," her Papa had explained. Papa told her that the Lifestream was the energy of the Planet; it was like a river of electricity that kept the Planet and everyone on it alive.

"But where are the trees and grass and flowers, Papa?" It was an innocent question, but her Papa didn't have the answer. Not when the Turks were eyeing them with great interest. Her Papa warned her not to talk to the Turks, and answer as little as possible to their questions.

She couldn't help but dislike how the Turks made her Papa nervous; seeing him shaken made her nervous as well. It wasn't as though Tifa was scared of doctors, but she could feel something in her tremble with anxiety.

Even the sight of the humongous ShinRa Building did little to still the feeling.

("Once finished," Tseng, the long haired Turk had explained, "It will be the tallest and most hi-tech building on the Planet.")

It continued on when she was forcibly separated from her Papa; when she learned to fear men wearing white lab coats, and it churned when she saw _him_ for the first time.

She never understood it. Only later, when the void consumed the sky, and the earth cracked into oblivion, did she realize what it was.

* * *

"Tifa Lockhart will be inducted into ShinRa's SOLDIER division," Mr. Veld announced in his office.


	4. The Dream

_"Tifa Lockhart will be inducted into ShinRa's SOLDIER division."_   


Her father's hug nearly crushed her.  


There were shouts and something she never thought her father would have done.  


He begged.  


"Veld, she's only eight! You can't possibly ask this! You can't!"  


The leader of the Turks remained still.  


(He had seen the looks of desperate men and his reaction remained the same.)  


"You have a choice…"  


There were never choices with ShinRa, and even their compromises were threats laced with kindness.  


A folder, yellow and already thick with her name emblazoned on it, made itself known on Veld's desk.  


An unprecedented honour.  


The first of what ShinRa hopes to be a female SOLDIER division.  


To see his daughter becoming part of the greatest band of warriors ever known on the Planet?  


What man would not be proud? What man would reject such an amazingly rare offer?  


Naturally, ShinRa would not think about turning a young girl into a SOLDIER so soon. After all, PR was queen in the company. Instead, she would be assigned a mentor to help her with basic training, and she would of course continue her studies, along with additional subjects to her academic repertoire. All of this would be done in Nibelheim.  


"A child should always be with her parent. Of course, once she reaches fourteen, she would be reassigned to Midgar. Nibelheim does not have the necessary equipment for further SOLDIER training," Veld continued smoothly.  


'We did not have to offer you this' went unspoken.  


For all his years dealing with ShinRa, Mr. Lockhart knew this was all he could do.  


Veld laid out the contract. For a wild moment Mr. Lockhart wondered if he could outrun them all, seize his daughter and vanish from the face of the Planet.  


He turned to his daughter. So young, so terrified and so, so fragile.  


Then, those alien eyes blinked back and he felt his hand move.

 

* * *

 

  
Hojo was apoplectic with rage.  


Sephiroth didn't even get the usual sarcastic remarks that presided over his coming. Instead, the scientist simply barked at him to get on the table before proceeding to run his blood tests.  


The state of things was such that Hojo didn't need to hiss for instructions. His assistants were already three steps ahead, regarding his orders.  


In all his life, Sephiroth only remembered Hojo being this angry only twice, and both of them had involved Professor Gast.  


This time, he didn't need to guess what had the greasy- haired fool in a twist.  


Tifa.  


Sephiroth rarely saw children. He had spent most of his childhood on the military compound, surrounded by men at least twice his age, or being fussed about by scientists. In the rare moments when children's books got into his hands, he found himself unable to comprehend what it meant to be a child.  


The books he read spoke of adventures, often simplistic and fantastical in nature, of desires to be a hero, of friendship, and most of all, of family.  


He knew what procreation was and deduced that he was most certainly a product of a couple's union.  


Sephiroth disliked unsolved riddles, and though he found answers that could be forced into the puzzle, his history was like a hole that had no piece to fit in. He remembered, during an extremely desperate moment, he'd asked Hojo, and all he got out of him was that his parents were both dead and that his mother's name was Jenova.  


Any further questions were met with a brick wall.  


He eventually accepted that it was all he would ever learn.  


Until now.  


Could this girl, Tifa, hold the key?  


Could Tifa be a long lost relative? If she was, could Lockhart have known something about his mother? Or even…his father?  


Veld was a nuisance, but the fact that Lockhart was allowed to accompany his daughter and seemed on a somewhat friendly basis with the man spoke volumes about the Mayor.  


He had to find out; he needed to know.  


* * *

 

  
Once he had signed the paperwork, Veld had someone bring them to their hotel room at the ShinRa tower. It was larger than any room, no, any building in Nibelheim. There were large king-sized beds, an exquisitely decorated lounge, a functioning kitchen, gold plated Jacuzzi tub, and a state-of-the-art home theatre system.  


Veld could be as subtle as a brick. Mr. Lockhart knew better than to think that this was anything but a vulgarly disguised bribe.  


Tifa, on the other hand, squealed with awe, and as soon as the assigned Turk vanished from their sights, she didn't even wait for Mr. Lockhart's signal before bouncing off to try everything she could get her hands on. As she surveyed the Jacuzzi – her new eyes surveying the expensive toiletries – Mr. Lockhart found himself searching every single object with wariness.  


He had no doubt they were bugged with some sort of surveillance system and felt he really ought to find out where they were, but he felt the sleepless hours crashing through him. In the background, he heard Tifa switching on the bath tub and humming an old Nibelheim tune.If he closed his eyes, he could imagine himself back at home, far away from the Mako- stinking city.  


As though by instinct, he switched on the television. There was a show, something about SOLDIERS and a badly costumed Wutai Ninja, but his mind wandered away, and before long, darkness took him.  


* * *

 

  
Tifa didn't know how long she had been in the bath tub; all she could remember was how exciting everything in Midgar was. She hadn't been able to visit the city proper as of yet, but her Papa promised her she would be able to do so once they had rested. Everything was different here; people were more detached, always hurrying about, and the men in the lab coats – she shuddered despite the hot water.

  
Then she remembered her hero. She had never seen anyone so tall or with hair so long (it was longer than hers, and she felt a twinge of jealousy), but he had saved her from the bad men. It felt like those fairytales, where the Prince came and saved his beloved Princess from danger.

  
Even his name sounded so…Princely.

  
"Se-phi-roth," she whispered his name and felt heat creeping up her face that had nothing to do with the water.  


* * *

 

  
Midgar was burning.  


Tifa watched, her green eyes drinking in the way the flames danced to the screams of humans dying.  


She felt she ought to be afraid or even horrified; instead, she felt happy.  


Mother had been avenged, and the cycle that was once broken was now mended, and the journey would begin anew. The Planet's blood flowed and ebbed, struggling futilely as Mother's cells began its final assimilation, merging them together as one.  


The Planet had fought bravely, but just like its countless predecessors, it too falls.  


She watched the land around her crack open, and tendrils of dark energy burst forth from the Planet's core in graceful arcs that began to twist and form into wings of pure darkness.  


The Chosen in the center, like a silver God before His ascension, and she by His side.  


As the Planet cried out its last, they ascended, and into the darkness of the universe they went.  


* * *

  
Only three saw that dream.

  
One who broke it by screaming in fear; the other who felt pure terror for the first time in years, and the last, who simply rose from his bed and walked to his desk. His vision was blurred, but he did not need glasses for what he was about to do; his hands were expert enough.  


As dawn broke before Midgar, Professor Hojo began to write.

  
  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BETA by Sorrow Has a Human Heart


	5. Messiah

 

Contrary to what most people said about him, which was completely undeserved in his opinion, President Shinra was not your typical CEO. You could not become a typical CEO and still continue to head the largest and most profitable company on the Planet. He hated golf, was a hard and patient worker (his various secretaries could vouch this), and had a good eye for people who could make him even richer.

It was because of this last bit that he answered Hojo's four a.m. call without screaming in return.

"Yes?" he answered tersely.

"President Shinra, I have a report here that you might find interesting…"

Hojo rarely used the word 'interesting' that was not followed by 'Sephiroth'.

"It's about the Neo-Midgar project."

 

* * *

President Shinra looked at the photo attached to his email.

Tifa Lockhart was quite a pretty child, with promises of becoming a stunning beauty when she grew up.

That was not what interested him.

When Hojo explained to him that they found a Neo-Ancient child, the President had not felt more excited in years. Hojo only received the position of Head Scientist due to Sephiroth, the Neo-Ancient specimen who proceeded to outperform the various failures before him. Unfortunately, Sephiroth turned out to be the only Neo-Ancient of his calibre. Mindless mutants and monsters came after him. Professor Gast had been thorough in destroying the research surrounding Project-S. That, coupled with the missing Ancient, made it quite impossible for them to replicate Sephiroth's success again. It was because of these reasons President Shinra withheld the orders to annihilate Project G entirely, realising the Promised Land project needed all the men he could get, successful or not.

So far, Hojo reported, the girl showed no signs of Mako deformity or adverse reactions to the basic SOLDIER test. She had above-average intelligence and showed great promise. Mayor Lockhart turned out to be quite malleable and had consented to the girl's recruitment into SOLDIER.

President Shinra could see the presses now: young Tifa, country bumpkin who would become the first female SOLDIER of her type. Unlike his son, President Shinra adored good publicity, and the masses enjoyed the "typical country kid who made it big in the city" story.

"Pity the girl's too young," he thought to himself. Though SOLDIER had outperformed even his wildest expectations, casualties were high, and once Wutai was defeated, they would still need the manpower to maintain the status quo—more, once the Promised Land was found. Hojo had mentioned something about how the Neo-Midgar might be a multi-generational project that would require decades, if not a century to complete.

Attempts to breed Sephiroth had failed, and it seemed Project G yielded the same failure. But Tifa was extremely promising in that area.

He could wait for the girl to grow.

 

* * *

 

Sephiroth woke from the Mako-induced dream with one focus in his mind. Hojo had left him alone and disappeared somewhere within his warren-like laboratory, so he signed himself out and marched back to the ShinRa lounge, ignoring everyone in his path.

Part of him knew, but he could not help feel disappointed when he discovered they were no longer there.

Noticing the eyes upon him, he made himself scarce and returned to his office, ordering his secretary to cancel all his appointments.Then, without further ado, he barricaded himself and began typing furiously on his computer.

Nibelheim. Lockhart. Tifa.

He mentally noted to inform the Head of Security and the Turks to find a better programmer for ShinRa's computer security, since it only took him one try to bypass its firewall, but as the words flowed onto his screen, he set the thought firmly to the back of his mind.

Nibelheim was an old village, and the Lockharts had been a prominent family for generations. ShinRa had some holdings there, and a reactor due to the location's rich Mako content. However, unlike Midgar, it remained a tiny village. Reports of dragon infestations, dangerous wildlife, and steep mountain ranges kept the village small.

Currently, its economy's sources consisted of its meagre tourism industry and providing power for the nearby ShinRa Space Project in Rocket Town.

The Lockharts seemed like a normal family, but normal families don't have dealings with ShinRa and come out unscathed. Slowly he typed in his mother's name...and found 'CONFIDENTIAL ACCESS DENIED' glaring back at him.

He tried to force himself through, but whoever managed the computer security for the Science Division was worth the money thrown at them. He tried for an hour and found himself being blocked at every turn. He knew his mother was a long-shot, but now, it was all he could do not to throw the computer across the room like a temperamental Genesis…

The world shook.

Sephiroth barely registered the tremors when the alarms began to sound. He didn't need to see his PHS to know that the Cold Peace was over.

He looked out his window and saw Sector 5 on fire.

 

* * *

  
Tifa's ears rang as the world turned grey and shook violently.

She felt everyone running around her; she knew there were screams. Their mouths were open, but her ears continued to ring, and she was being shoved from side to side by the terrorised crowd.

She opened her mouth to scream as panic seized her. Her hand reached out, but her Papa was nowhere to be found.

Left…

She did not know who said it, but she turned and her heart stopped.

He father had fallen face- first to the ground. His face was covered with ash and blood, while his leg was pinned by a large concrete block.

"NO!" rang clear as day. She pushed her way towards her father.

"Ti…fa?" The man looked up, "Oh Shiva…Tifa…you're alright."

"Papa! No," she cried out, "Please, please someone…" She turned to the panicked mob. "Someone! Please, HELP ME!"

"Ti…fa, no, go…save yourself."

"NO, PAPA, please, please, save him!"

"Tifa, go," he pleaded.

Tifa held her father's hand, feeling it growing weaker.

She stopped screaming. There was no one coming. She knew this feeling. She felt it when her mother, mind broken from the illness, had slipped away. It was too soon. Too soon. They had just arrived in Midgar; things were going to be better. He was smiling that morning, and things were going to get better!

"I love you, Tifa," he whispered, his eyes staring into hers, memorising every inch of her. Then, "I'm sorry," and those eyes shut.

Tifa didn't know if she had screamed or cried, but she knew she held onto her Papa and shook him, hoping he would wake up! The world crumbled around her and as oblivion came, she welcomed it.

 

* * *

Aerith didn't need the Planet to tell her that so many had died that morning. Their screams pierced through her: shock with anger, then grief followed by a sense of peace. Some lingered, unable to comprehend what had happened, but the rest of the souls returned to The Planet, who welcomed them as a mother would her child.

She remembered her mother whispering about how lingering souls would turn into monsters, so it was their duty to guide them back to the Promised Land, to the Lifestream for their final rest.

Aerith stomped her feet into the dirt. She felt tears forming in her eyes, but ruthlessly suppressed them. It would do her no good to cry; her mother was dead and she had Elmyra, her new mother, now. She ignored the Planet's whispers and tried to concentrate on finding valuables on the ground. She knew it was bad, but a tremor like that usually meant that treasures could be found in the aftermath. It was callous (and her mother would say, cruel) but that was life in the slums.

Realising that the outside offered nothing, Aerith found her feet walking towards the Church. It was an old building, from times of the old gods, and a remnant of a past Midgar. Despite its homey feel and cleanliness for a slum building, only Aerith dared venture there. Rumours ran rampant among the slum dwellers of ghosts. The truth was, to Aerith's disappointment, it was just the Lifestream being closer to the surface. Seeing that it was the only place where she'd be left alone, Aerith did little to dispel it.

A few souls, probably from the blast, wandered around the dirt patch in the church, dazed and confused. Her heart skipped a beat. One was a child, no more than three. The child barely saw her before joining the Lifestream. Another was an elderly woman who watched the child before she too went to the Promised Land.

Aerith had seen this, time and time again, and every time she saw them, it never failed to stir feelings inside her. Her mother said Aerith was not as in-tuned as she had been. Aerith wondered, not for the first time, how her mother had coped all on her own before she met her father, and before she had her.

Wiping her eyes, Aerith watched the last soul walk around the area. This last one was a middle-aged man. Unlike the earlier souls, his eyes were firmly above the hole in the Church's ceiling, as though he was waiting for someone. Aerith hoped that he would return soon, she did not feel like guiding anyone that day. Then, as though he read her mind, the man turned to look at her.

"Hello."

Aerith inwardly sighed, "Um, hello."

His eyes, a lovely shade of crimson, gazed upon her. "I'm dead, aren't I?" he said, almost whimsically.

"Yes, you can rest now. The Planet welcomes its children," she said, remembering her mother's words. As soon as she said it, tendrils of Lifestream formed around him but he kept his eyes on her.

"Please take care of my daughter," he said, and Aerith nodded, thinking of the young girl before them.

"She is at peace; you can join her," she responded.

"…no, she isn't," he continued and turned to look upwards. "I have failed her, and within her lies a great calamity. Please protect her."

Before Aerith could ask, the man faded away.

…And a girl crashed straight through the Church's ceiling and landed right in front of her.

 


	6. The Rescue and the Forgotten

Tifa was floating.

She felt the weightlessness caressing her body, lulling her into a deep sleep.

…but she can't sleep.

She had something important to do.

Emotions battered her like a ram. Peace vanished as anger surged with a horrifying fury she had never felt before.

Her Papa was dead.

He was dead.

They had such a good day – she finally saw the famous city of Midgar for the first time, her Papa had been upset about SOLDIER something but he was so happy that morning. He said he'd bring her to a particular shop her Mama used to like. It was the first time he had spoken about Mama without becoming quiet or crying.

They were healing.

Everything was going well.

Then he died.

"Why?" She wanted to ask but who would answer?

Her Mama? Her Papa?

_Me._

It was that voice again. Tifa felt a wave of calmness washing over her. The voice was so familiar and so soothing that she wept again.

" _Mama?"_

Consciousness swam around her, teased her as she felt every inch of her struggling for reality but she didn't want to wake up: there was nothing there for her anymore.

Then, as though chided, the voice replied back, " _Yes, there is_."

Something – someone held her, their embrace engulfed her body, filling her with a sense of serenity that she longed for. Part of her wanted to open her eyes, to see the being that was going to make things all better, but a part of her didn't want the dream to end.

" _Find me_ ," and with that, Tifa woke.

* * *

Sephiroth could not believe it. He was aware that Tseng was watching him from the corner of his eyes but he didn't care.

Mayor Lockhart was dead. It was as though the fates were mocking him; his past snatched away just as he was about to reach it.

He became aware that Tseng was talking to the paramedic nearby and forced himself to focus.

"…no, sir, we only found Mayor Lockhart in that area. We have yet cleared the area but so far there are no signs of his daughter anywhere," the woman explained, "To be honest, I highly doubt anyone could have survived. It was the nearest to the explosion," she continued, frowning. "This is the worst attack I've seen in years, the damage tore through the upper layers. I wouldn't be surprised if it reached the slums."

'Great is the Gift of the Goddess,' the words came unbidden as Sephiroth swatted the imaginary Genesis aside; his mind raced with possibilities. It was a small chance but it was not unheard of for people who fell from the top plate to the slums and survived. Tifa could still be alive.

His PHS rang but he ignored it. It was definitely the President and by not answering he would have to face a severe punishment but he didn't care (as if they'd kill him). He ran before Tseng could notice him disappear.

* * *

Aerith should have fled the scene. Her body had twisted away and her mouth had opened to scream but instead, she stood rooted on the spot. The dust settled to reveal a young girl, lying face up and miraculously in one piece.

A moment passed as she stared at the girl before her, her mind slowly trying to find a semblance of a thought. This was not the first time she had seen a dead body but still she released a breath she did not realized she had held in. Any messages from the dead were momentarily forgotten as she took a tentative step forward. A part of her went, 'Oh Gaia, Oh Gaia,' while a smaller and more irritated part of her cursed the fact that her plans for the day was completely scuttled.

Then the girl gasped.

Aerith let out an undignified squeak as she fell on her back, her legs gave way as a pair of peridot eyes flashed opened and stared back at her.

"Don't leave me," the girl whispered piteously. Aerith froze and stared back, her heart clenched. She wanted to answer but saw that the girl's eyes were looking beyond her bearing a gaze so familiar that Aerith's fear swept away.

Infinity passed before she heard, "I won't," coming out from her mouth. The girl let out a smile as her eyes slowly closed. Aerith crawled forward and held the girl's hands, caked with dirt and blood, as she slipped into unconsciousness. For a moment, she thought the girl had died but Aerith could feel the girl's life clinging to the body. Not desperate or angry or even resolved, as many souls would when on the verge of death; it simply hung around her.

Realising that the girl wasn't going to die anytime soon, Aerith surveyed her situation. She could not leave her there; the Slums were not kind to anyone, especially little girls. However, Aerith could not carry her. Her home was quite far away for her to drag a comatose person along with her. She looked around the church, before remembering the small abandoned room at the back of the church. She had found it while looking around and thought that she could hide the girl there while she went and fetched for help.

That was it but before she could move her, Aerith braced herself for what she was about to do.

Magic was something her mother had tried to teach her during her times in the laboratories. Their kind could tap into the Lifestream and use its knowledge to heal and harm those around them. Unfortunately, she could only teach Aerith the most rudimentary of skills, just simple basic prayers for the Planet. Yet, she remembered resentfully, her fervent prayers did not save her mother and the Planet, the One Being whom they served faithfully, failed her when she needed them most.

She could hear soft whispers of regret dancing around her, of apologies, but had always felt it was a little too late.

Instead she focused on using the Lifestream to mend any major wounds the girl had. Aerith had to concentrate; non-Materia magic was dangerous and outright fatal for humans, as the Lifestream would overload the brain with knowledge from countless of souls. A Cetra, could in fact tap into the knowledge with practice and concentration, their link to the Lifestream allows them access without overloading the mind so to speak. Aerith knew she could do some minor healings now and then, but her skills only mended the superficial. Only the strongest and most skilled of Cetra could do a Full-Heal on their own.

Aerith did not need a Full-Heal but some basic ones would be enough to save the girl.

Before she could do anything, Aerith felt the Lifestream surged around her. She panicked, wondering if she had done something wrong when she saw tendrils of the Lifestream itself shooting from the ground and converged around the girl. Her mouth fell open as energy wrapped itself around the girl's wounds, healing and mending them. Bruises and cuts fade away as colour returned to her cheek, as her breath became steady.

Then, as soon as it began, it faded, leaving behind a dirty but otherwise health girl, lying asleep on the ground.

Aerith had no time to contemplate what she had seen when she heard heavy footsteps from behind her.

* * *

"He did _what?"_ Genesis slammed his fist onto the table. The SOLDIER Executive, to her credit, didn't even flinch. Beatrix closed the folder in her hand as she looked up, her one eye surveying Genesis like a mother would a spoiled child.

"It seems that Sephiroth has gone AWOL. He has turned off his PHS. Attempts to resume communication has so far been a failure. The Turks reported to me that he might be heading to the Slums," she explained.

Veld had been so very kind to notify her first. To remind her what would happen the news of Sephiroth's little disappearance breaks out. Of course, the President had called, demanding to know why and Hojo frothing at his mouth about her incompetence as she contemplated snapping her PHS in two. So there were excuses: Of course she knew where Sephiroth had went, under orders to do a rescue and survey ops in the Slums, for good PR, so sorry about the breach of protocol but the Turks were understaffed and the likes and verbal orders somehow outpaced the paper trails, such a pity since normally they were good at keeping orders during an emergency.

(If Veld was going to make her play this game, Beatrix would made sure they'd both get an angry, fat man and a greasy haired fool yelling down their phone)

"Genesis, Angeal, only few people knows he has gone AWOL. I don't believe he has left permanently," Beatrix thought of the young Tifa and the news of her dead father. Genesis muttered something unsavoury under his breath as Angeal tried hard to hide his concern.

"Which is why this is a covert mission. Angeal, you are to lead Troop 12 for the rescue mission on the top plate. Genesis you are to lead Troop 10 in the Slums. This is a search and rescue mission," of course finding Sephiroth and rescuing what Hojo had deemed 'valuable research specimen' needn't be said.

"Forgive me," Genesis hissed, "but isn't covert operations under the Turks' jurisdictions?"

"It would but the Turks are unavailable at the moment to be spared," inwardly, she wondered if Veld was telling the truth or if this was just another one of his attempts to curry _another_ favour from the SOLDIER branch.

"Regardless, it would be prudent if either of you were to persuade him to return." Further explanation was not needed.

"You are dismissed."

* * *

Normally, any 'pizza-dwellers' who dressed in fine leather coats and branded boots would have been robbed and left for dead as soon as they set foot in the slums.

But only a fool would try to do that to a SOLDIER 1st Class.

Sephiroth did a quick survey of the 5th Sector Slums. The reports were correct, there were signs of recent damage, of rubbles and collapsed buildings but the dwellers simply scavenged and went on with their lives. He took a glance at the new hole at the bottom of the plate and began to calculate where are the possibilities of Tifa could have landed.

Once he did, he ran.

To others it felt as though a brisk wind had passed them by. Silver and black and smelled of blood.

To Sephiroth it felt like the world had slowed down, narrowed all to one point: Tifa, Tifa, Tifa.

He had never felt so desperate and wanting so, so much. A part of him, dormant and thought gone, surfaced; a desire for the past so strong, if Sephiroth took the time, he would realized how reckless he was being, how foolish for him to break protocol for a girl he barely knew.

But this isn't just _any_ girl.

Her father was dead but he would have her, he would have her even if he had to tear down the entire slums.

And woe betide the damn place if she's found dead.

* * *

Aerith screamed as the Guard Hounds bared their fangs, three (no _five_ ) of them encircled her, growling as they eyed both her and her comatose companion.

"Damn it!" Aerith held out her flower basket like a flimsy shield, putting herself in front of the girl. Her mother had spoken to her but it was one thing to read about offensive magic in a room, another facing hungry beasts who could launch them back.

She couldn't think, she had nothing except to think that this was it, this is how I am going to die. Even the usually noisy Lifestream had gone quiet.

One of hounds, large and hideous snarled as it eyed its prey. Then before Aerith could blink, it pounced.

Dropping her basket, Aerith collapsed on the girl, shutting her eyes as she hoped she could shield her companion before they were both killed.

"The fangs are going to come, I am going to die! I am going to die!"

And she felt for a moment, when the time stopped, when that moment between life and death was but a flicker of an eternity, she could smell the flowers, of familiar scents and of arms so warm.

What does the sound of metal slicing and sickening thuds have to do with mother?

Breathe. _Breathe_.

"They are gone now, you are safe," a voice spoke. Deep, commanding and Aerith felt her bones tremble…and it wasn't from the adrenaline.

A large, gloved hand touched her head, almost impatient.

Aerith opened her eyes and saw green, silver and…blood.

It was _him_ ; taller, older but those eyes were no less cold. Before she could hold it back, memories crashed through her…

_She was tied down, she was tied down and they made her watch as he walked into that room full of naivety as he held a stick in front of him. It was twice as tall as he was. He was trembling and she could feel his fear, his anxiety and cried and begged to make them stop._

_Then he_ moved.

Those eyes frowned.

She breathed and realized she was not back at the labs, there was ground, there was dirt and the offensive stench of the slums became incredibly sweet.

"Are you unhurt?" the man spoke and Aerith felt her head nod.

A voice groan.

His eyes glazed behind her, relief etched across his face. She should run now, run but she remembered how fast that boy was, she knew even if she tried, he'd catch her…except…

The man slid past her and then gazed at her erstwhile friend. The man did not recognize her!

"Or maybe he's just busy with whoever that girl was," she thought. She really ought to run but then, she remembered her promise (and the father's warning, a tiny part of her whispered before she crushed it) and if _he's_ here then she felt bound to ensure that what happened to her would never happen to that girl who laid sleeping on the ground.

She would never let _that_ happen to anyone.

His back was to her now; wide but so vulnerable. Aerith didn't think twice and picked up a thick piece of wood from the floor but before she could swing it, the man turned slightly and she saw…

…his face was full of longing that Aerith dropped it. If he heard, the man made no indication.

Then, as soon as it came, his face became blank again as a Full-Heal spell, glowed and faded away. Without turning, he asked, "How does a girl like you manage to heal her?"

Aerith fought down the panic building inside of her and before she could think she blurted out, "I didn't, she healed herself."

His eyebrow arched with surprise while Aerith resisted the urge to slap herself, _"Why did you tell him that?"_ she scolded inwardly. A look of wonder came to his face as he tenderly brushed the girl's cheek. Gently, he swooped his arms around the girl and carried her in his arms.

"Follow me, it's getting dangerous here," he ordered, yes ordered, and Aerith, ignoring all her instincts picked up her empty basket and did what she never thought she'd do: followed him.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry for the delay. This chapter is un-betaed and I apologise for any mistakes you found.


	7. The Block

“Where do you live?” the man suddenly asked, probably after realizing that Aerith was not going to leave him any time soon.

Aerith glared as she bended over and caught her breath. She did not forget how inhuman that man had been but her body, it seemed, needed a reminder as to why exactly it took her mother years to escape from the labs.

“About north from here,” she answered, not wanting to give any details.

He frowned then turned his head towards the direction. “I shall escort you back to your home,” he said and shifted the girl in his arms. “Which Sector do you belong to?”

Her expression must have been obvious for his voice softened, “I understand that you may not have faith in SOLDIER but at least allow me to lead you back to the sector gates,”

Aerith bit her lip, wondering how she should go from there but decided to change the subject.

 “Where are you taking her?”

If he was surprised by her bluntness, he did not show it.

“Back to her family, she has relatives on the plate,” he replied, this time with a hint of impatience laced in his voice.

“If you’re here on a rescue mission, where’s the rest of your team?”

“I am fully capable of handling a rescue operation alone,” he replied, in a derisive tone.

“How do I know you’re not a paedophile?”

Aerith would give her right arm there and then to have a camera.

She would have laughed too, if not for his sudden stillness, his eyes skewered hers like it was taking all his strength not to behead her there and then. Aerith wanted to believe he would not stoop as low as that but it didn’t stop her from breaking into a cold sweat.

He gritted his teeth before saying, “I am not a monster.” He all but hissed, “You-“

“SEPHIROTH!”

They turned towards the voice. A tall red-haired man ran towards them followed by a group of SOLDIERs. Aerith swore and her instincts took over as she fled for safety.The man neither noticed nor cared that she did. It was only when she had hid herself away did Aerith realized what she had done. She didn’t mean to run but every inch of her was responding to fear. She hoped the girl would be safe. If not – if not…

Memories of her mother lying in her arms, eyes becoming still flashed before her; Aerith bit down a scream and turned towards the group of SOLDIERs…only to find herself staring at an empty space.

* * *

 

The ride return was silent. Normally, Genesis would find a quiet Sephiroth the epitome of divine blessing but after being grilled by Beatrix, Hojo and the President, he wished that his friend would say something. He needed a release and in his haste he had actually left behind his copy of Loveless. So he was stuck in an ambulance, staring at his friend and the girl he had rescued.

It was ridiculous; Sephiroth breaking protocol and ignoring orders to find a little girl! If Genesis hadn’t known that Sephiroth had the sex drive of an amoeba, the jokes would have written themselves. He would have made it too, if not for the look on Sephiroth’s face.

To any other observer, Sephiroth’s expression was impenetrable, to Genesis, he was anxious – no, _nervous!_

He wanted to ask but seeing that there were paramedics, he simply had to wait. In his state, Sephiroth won’t answer to anything.

When they arrived, Genesis thought he had a chance but Sephiroth brushed him aside and followed the girl to the examination room. Considering that Sephiroth _loathed_ hospitals (it reminded him too much of the labs), to say Genesis was surprised would be an understatement.

But as the sounds of screams, doctors running and nurse rushing all over to attend to the bombing victims rushed towards him, Genesis told himself to be patient. He’d have his answers but now he must play the part of the hero.

* * *

 

It was pandemonium at the meeting board.

Heidegger was frothing and demanding further actions. Crimson nodded with him, his assistant Scarlet adding in that Wutai deserved total annihilation for Wutai’s terrorist act. Hojo muttered about destroyed experiments. Palmer’s tea had spilled on the table with him trying to add in but his voice was drowned by Heidegger’s increasing anger. Only Veld, Beatrix and Rufus were silent – his son was reserved for once – something that doesn’t bode well.

The President raised his hand and Heidegger sat down, his face red.

“Veld, what’s your report?” he motioned. Veld turned and opened the folder in front of him.

“I’m afraid this wasn’t Wutai,” he began. President Shinra heard gasps around the board room. Rufus sat up, his eyes widened with surprise.

“A group called AVALANCHE claim responsibility,” Veld continued before passing the folder to the President’s hands. Inside was a grainy snapshot of a hooded man, sitting in front of a camera holding a placard saying, “THE PLANET IS DYING! SHINRA WILL FALL! DOWN WITH REACTORS!”

“Our initial reports indicate that they are not affiliated with Wutai,” The Turk leader added, ignoring Heidegger’s disbelieving snort, “But we are still investigating that. Currently, the group claim to be independent with anti-Mako leanings. They also claim that bombing Sector 5 is just the beginning,”

“We have deployed our remaining troops to guard the rest of the sectors. However, it will not be enough,” Beatrix said, eyeing the monitor at the end of the table. “Wutai might see this as an opportunity to launch an attack,”

The President smirked. “They can try but nonetheless, make sure my SOLDIERs remind those savages that even with these setbacks they are no match for us,”

“Of course, Mr. President,” she replied.

“Send Sephiroth to remind them,” The President added, “Remind them that even without our best we are still a force to be reckoned with,” he motioned. Beatrix’s only eye twitched but she simply nodded.

Suddenly, Hojo stood, “But, Mr. President, about my proposal –“

“I’m aware but the war takes precedence, Hojo. I’d like you to focus on increasing the number of SOLDIERs. In the meantime, the girl shall stay with Veld,” Hojo opened his mouth, as though to object but the President, waved his hand.

“You mentioned yourself the girl is far too young and I know you’re ever so busy with your current project. Veld has a family and the girl’s father an old friend,” the fact that Veld is loyal enough that when the time comes, the girl will be handed over with no fuss, went unmentioned.

The professor’s lips curled into a snarl but the President slapped his hand onto the greasy’s man’s shoulders, “I’d rather you focus on the SOLDIERs we have now,” he said, “After all, once this war is done, we can focus more on that project,”

Then, without waiting, he dismissed them all.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a time skip. I’m terribly sorry for the delay. I wrote myself into a corner with this chapter and it drove me nuts. It’s not perfect and this is written with no beta, so apologies for mistakes found.


	8. One Dry, One Wet

Veld quickly dispatched a note to his assistant to inform his family about the new girl they are about to ward. Lisa, his wife, would be surprised but she knew her duty, Felicia might not take too kindly, however, but she would just have to deal with it.

What the President demanded, they obey.

As soon as she disappeared, he turned his attention to the recent terrorist attack. AVALANCHE he knew, was a small group led by a renegade Shin-Ra employee who became anti-Mako after a recent trip to Cosmo Canyon.

Initially he had a few of his spies to see if they were a considerable threat but as time went by, all that turned out so far were series of minor robberies and vandalisms. So, he dismissed them to the lower members of Turks, focusing more on Wutai.

Looking at the death toll and destruction, he acknowledged that he had made a grievous error.

So he summoned for Tseng and began collecting the paper work when his phone rang. He clicked the answer button but continued reading.

“Yes?”

“Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt you but Mr. Sephiroth wishes to speak with you, sir.”

He raised an eyebrow – Sephiroth? He had caused them a lot of trouble earlier but the man had simply apologized and it was the end of that.

The SOLDIER was usually obedient and never broke protocol except for the one incident.

Breaking it for Tifa Lockhart.

He could feel a headache coming in, if he’s here then there’s only one reason why.

“Send him in.” His assistant answered in affirmative, then hung up.

His door swung open and Sephiroth strides in, his expression blank. Without waiting, he sat down onto the chair across Veld, then crossed his legs.

“I suppose you’re here because of the Lockhart girl?” Veld asked, opting to cut straight to the point.

The SOLDIER didn’t even blink before giving the tiniest of nods.

“I have heard that after her father’s death she is to be under your protection?”

“Yes, at the moment she is recuperating but as soon as she’s able, she will be moved to a safe place.”

“And where is that?”

“That’s classified until further notice.”

Sephiroth frowned, “I see.” Then he continued, “I heard she is to be part of SOLDIER in the future and wished to know more.” The man excused himself. A very transparent excuse but if anyone asked, it sounded reasonable enough.

A silence past but neither made a move to dismiss themselves.

Veld decided to make the first move, “Her father and I were once acquainted. She no longer has any relatives around, which is why I have decided to take her in,” Sephiroth perked at the information; the SOLDIER must be really curious.

“I wish to speak to her before she leaves.” It was not a request and Veld contemplated on saying no. Sephiroth was usually a reserved young man, save for his antipathy for Hojo. This new interest could be troubling but he remembered what the President had said regarding ‘breeding’ and decided to allow it for once.

“Or course, I will inform you once she’s able.”

* * *

 

Tifa Lockhart was sitting up in the hospital bed, her arms wrapped around her knees. There were no bandages on her, to his surprise. Her long hair hid her face but not the quiet sobs shaking her shoulders.

Sephiroth felt an urge to run pass the Turks guarding her door and hold her close into his arm. It was that same feeling he had when he saw her lying prone on the ground at the slums. His heart seemed to ache in sadness and rage and for a moment, he saw his younger self sitting in her place; asking for a parent who would never come.

The Turk, who wore dark sunglasses, gave him a nod and allowed him in.

She didn’t even look up as he strode in and sat to the empty chair beside her bed.

“Ms. Lockhart,” he broached tentatively and then Tifa lifted her head, those green eyes red and wet with tears.

“…is Papa really gone?” she asked and Sephiroth wished he had Angeal next to him; the man knew how to comfort even the most broken of persons.

He swallowed and then answered, “Yes.”

He waited for her to cry or to wail but Tifa lowered her head, “Veld said it was because of bad people called AVALANCHE,” her voice was barely a whisper but his hearing caught the anguish in those words, “He said, they were terrorists and that they did it to make everyone scared,” she continued as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Suddenly, he felt his lack of social abilities had become somewhat of a hindrance. What does one say to that? AVALANCHE was responsible for the death of nearly 200 civilians and that’s not even counting the economic damage they caused and what it would mean with the war against Wutai.

He could imagine Angeal saying, I’m sorry for your loss, and even Genesis would have kind words for someone who suffered such a tragedy and him and kind words were estranged.

Sephiroth felt he could have echoed Angeal or even muster those kind words he had heard from others with regards to such things. However, it felt false, and he did not want to be false with this girl.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, wishing to say something when Tifa spoke again.

“I want to kill them.”

The anger in her voice stopped him as she looked up, those familiar green eyes flared with fury.

 “I hate them,” she declared, “AVALANCHE, terrorists, I hate them all!”

Tifa’s hands curled into fists, her breathing hard, “I’m going to join SOLDIER and I’m going to kill them for what they did!”

To anyone else, Tifa’s declaration would have disturbed them; a child barely in school wishing to join a military group just so that she could kill those who have murdered her father. Any reasonable adult would have arrange for a therapy session in the future.

Sephiroth, had no such issue, after all he was raised with no childhood and could for once empathize with someone.

“And you will,” he responded, finding his voice.

“Are you going to teach me? To become a SOLDIER?” she asked and Sephiroth felt his heart twinge.

“Unfortunately, I am needed for the war against Wutai,” he replied, wishing he didn’t have to. “But we might see each other in the future.”

“Oh,” she said ‘why are you here?’ were written on her face.

“I’m not good with this,” he loathed to admit, “But, I wanted to know about your eyes,”

Tifa blinked at his abrupt question and then frowned, “I got it from an accident at the reactor,”

All the answers and that was not what Sephiroth wanted to hear. An accident. Hojo had once theorized his eyes had been a side-effect of some biohazard exposure. He dismissed the fool, believing it had been a genetic inheritance – something from his lost parents. But here was Tifa, all but confirming that half-baked scientist’s theory.

He wanted to laugh; all those times thinking his eyes could be the key to his past, to a family he had often dreamt as a child

The eyes were an accident. Absurd, ridiculous _(mundane)_ but that was the truth; an accident.

Was that all he was?

Not realizing the young man’s inner turmoil, Tifa continued, her eyes looked past him, “I had my Mama’s eyes but she died. I thought her she was at the mountains so I went to look for her and...” she trailed off as a look of horror dawned on her face.

“It’s my fault,” she blurted, snapping Sephiroth from his reverie.

“-what?”

“I wanted to find Mama, and I went up the mountains and I got these eyes – _these eyes_ and then we had to come here, we had to come here cause I was stupid.” She spoke quickly, her breathing hitched, “It’s my fault, it’s my fault, if I hadn’t – I was stupid, it’s my fault, it’s _my fault!”_ she shouted and clenched her head as her breathing hitched and gasped.

“If we weren’t here, he wouldn’t have died! It’s my fault! _It’s my fault!_ ” she screamed.

Sephiroth didn’t realise he had left the chair, he didn’t even notice the Turk barging into the room, a nurse beside him, as the next thing Sephiroth knew, he had drawn the young hysterical girl close to him. His hands gently rubbing her back as she shook and sobbed, her tiny hands gripped his increasingly damp shirt.

Survivor’s guilt, he recognized, he knew of it, he had seen it happen, time and time again among his colleagues. He scoffed at them, thinking it was foolish, demanding to shoulder the blame when it should be placed on the perpetrator.

“No, Tifa, you’re not at fault. It’s AVALANCE who did this. You are blameless,” he muttered again and again, hoping it would sink it.

“-why did he have to die? _Why?”_ she cried into his chest and he could not reply and only held her.

Here they were. Tifa had lost both her parents and despite not knowing them, realizing that his eyes was just a side-effect and not the biological ties he had shared, he felt like he lost his as well.

The young girl continued to weep as his eyes remained dried as ever.

Yet, he wished it wasn’t.

* * *

 

“The boy gave her his number?”

“Slipped it into her hands,”

A scoff, “Sentiment. It seems I have not crushed those, well, no matter,”

“I thought you’d refuse.”

“Not this time. I’ll allow it, for now,”

“The President approves,”

“Of course he does, the girl is an anomaly but not an unwelcomed one. But I expect regular checkups.”

“And I expect your department to reimburse the travelling fees,”

“Tch, money, fine,”

“It’s all settled then?”

“Yes, yes, now leave, I have experiments to do,”

“Of course, Hojo,”

“Veld.”

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time, a fanfic writer promised herself to write one chapter per month. That writer is a breaker of oaths. Apologies for the lack of updates for this story (two years,Vixen! TWO YEARS!) I know that this was supposed to be a time skip but I kind of wanted to write a bit of Sephiroth and Tifa scene before moving on. I hope the next update won’t take as long.
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments, kudos and bookmarks. I read and appreciate every single one. This chapter is not beta-ed and though proof-read I can’t guarantee I didn’t miss anything.


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